


The Letter

by Lattes_lipstick_literature



Series: Green Pen Universe [3]
Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: F/M, Jeronica, Jughead is a hugger, Tags may give things away, Veronica Lodge Needs a Hug, Vughead, somewhat angsty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-31
Updated: 2019-07-31
Packaged: 2020-07-27 15:27:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20048296
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lattes_lipstick_literature/pseuds/Lattes_lipstick_literature
Summary: Grabbing the letter, apparently the only real piece of mail they got. She squints at her name and address the only thing on the front of the envelope beside the postage. There is a nagging feeling at the back of her mind, something tugging at her senses telling her that she knows this handwriting.She has seen this handwriting.





	The Letter

**Author's Note:**

> It has been a while, hasn't it? I have not had to chance to write anything for a long time, real-life has pretty much gotten in the way but I had inspiration strike so I decided why the hell not? This story is pretty short, and it does somewhat end on a cliff hanger but I will write the sequel since I already have it planned out in my head I just need to actually put it to paper. Hope you all enjoy!

It’s a rare lazy day for Veronica, something she hasn’t had in a long time. Jughead is currently having a meeting with his editor about the books he is working on and Veronica knows she should get up and change out of her pajamas, but the cocoon of her bed and blankets are making it hard for her. Jughead should be home any minute and she promised they could go check out that used bookstore that just opened up two blocks away. Hearing the front door open and close the raven-haired woman groans as she pulls herself away from her sanctuary. 

“Still not dressed?” Jughead laughs as he makes his way into the room, after depositing his keys on the kitchen table. “We could stay in if you want,” He shrugs and lets himself fall heavily onto the bed. Veronica rolls her eyes and shakes her head, grabbing a green pen she uses it to put her hair up in a temporary bun. 

“No, I need to get up. Plus, I promised that we could go this weekend after your meeting.” She makes her way to her closet, she lets a small smile come to her face when she hears him get up and feels his arms wrap around her waist. He buries his face into her neck and she feels his body expand as he breathes deeply. She loves the moments they have together like this, it reminds her that she is loved and in love. 

She lets one of her hands reach up and into his hair, fingernails scratching against his scalp. Jughead groans and grips her tighter, placing an open mouth kiss on the side of her neck. Veronica tilts her head slightly giving the man more access to her neck. She feels his lips slowly make its way up towards her ear.

“You sure we can’t stay home.” Veronica rolls her eyes and untangles herself from the dark-haired man.

“A promise is a promise.” She turns around and gives him a serious look, which makes Jughead sigh and nods his head choosing to fall, once again, on to the bed. 

“I brought in the mail,” He mumbles, eyes closed. “You got a letter.” Veronica frowns when she hears this, a letter in this age of technology. “Kinda weird, it’s on the kitchen table” she hears Jughead. When she finishes dressing she glances at Jughead whose prone form now has his eyes shut.

“Get your sexy ass up Trombolo, time to head to the book store” she exits the room without a backward glance, curiosity peaked about the letter. She is pretty sure it’s probably junk mail telling her she is pre-approved for some loan or something. Grabbing the letter, apparently the only real piece of mail they got. She squints at her name and address the only thing on the front of the envelope beside the postage. There is a nagging feeling at the back of her mind, something tugging at her senses telling her that she knows this handwriting. 

She has  _ seen _ this handwriting. 

Turning the letter over she prepares to open it when Veronica’s body freezes. The return senders name the only thing she can really focus on. She is vaguely aware of Jughead coming into the room, he may have said something but she cannot acknowledge this. 

_ Hermione Lodge _

_ New York State Department of Corrections _

Veronica’s vision is suddenly blurry and her lungs are burning. Apparently, she has stopped breathing but right now Veronica’s body is not her own, she doesn’t know how to tell herself to breathe, to move. All the dark-haired women can do is stare at the handwriting on the envelope. To stare at the handwriting of her mother, who the last time she saw was being handcuffed and escorted away from her to spend a very long time in jail. The mother who she testified against to put her in that jail. 

Memories she hasn’t thought about in years make their way through her head. The nervousness and doubts about taking the information to the police. The long meetings with lawyers, the false smiles she gave her parents, the lies she would tell them, and the stress, the paranoia of being found out. Veronica had told them she was on their side, had earned her parents trust, only to immediately betray them once she could. 

It had completely and utterly destroyed her teenage self, she remembers the therapy sessions, the nightmares, the panic attacks that continued for months after the trial was over. Betty had helped Veronica pick up the pieces. She had let Veronica stay with her, had sat with Veronica in the middle of the night when the nightmares got too much. 

Veronica couldn’t go through that again.

She feels hands on her shoulders, Jughead was saying something. Maybe he is asking her what is wrong, Maybe he’s telling her to breathe. There is darkness crowding the edge of her vision now and Veronica knows that if she doesn’t get a hold of herself, she is going to pass out. 

“VERONICA!” Jughead’s voice breaks through to senses and Veronica takes a huge gulp of air, a loud sound in her now sensitive ears. 

“The letter,” Veronica whispers voice suddenly rough as if she hasn’t spoken in years, as if she hadn’t just been speaking to Jughead minutes ago. Jesus, how long has she been standing there holding this letter. 

“Fuck the letter, you need to sit down.” There is fear in Jughead’s voice, a tone she hadn’t heard him use since they were teenagers in Riverdale surrounded by the darkness of violence and death. Veronica allows him to lead her to the couch, the letter tightly fisted in her hand, a hand she has now noticed is shaking. “You should have tea or something right?” She hears him say but when he goes to move her hand, the hand not holding the letter, reaches for him involuntarily. 

She needs him to stay, to keep her grounded so she doesn’t get lost. He lets her pull him down on the couch, immediately opening his arms when she turns towards him to bury her face in his neck. She takes a deep breath loving his spicy unique scent, she knows that just minutes ago the roles were reversed, the mood completely different. She almost laughs but stops herself, if she laughs she knows she won’t stop because her sanity feels like a fragile thing and she doesn’t want to scare Jughead anymore than he already is. 

They sit on the couch huddled together for who knows how long, Veronica is vaguely aware that the pen she used for her bun is no longer in her hair, she wonders where she will find the pen this time. The sounds of the outside world seeping in thought the drafty windows, while time may have felt like it stopped for Veronica the noise was a harsh reminder that it stops for no one, it catches up to you. Wordlessly she pulls away from Jughead, for a brief second she feels him tense but he lets her go. 

Veronica sucks in a breath before exhaling it noisily through her mouth, she repeats this method multiple times, a method her therapist had thought her right after the trail. She hadn’t had to do this for years, but it’s the only thing she can think of doing to prevent herself from breaking completely. She can feel Jughead eyeing her, worry radiating off of him like heat from the sun. 

When Veronica thinks that she may be okay, not completely but that takes time, she hands Jughead the letter her mother’s name face up. He takes the letter, eyes still attached to her form, Jughead stares at Veronica for a couple of beats before letting his eyes slowly pander down. Immediately after reading his eyes move to hers rapidly, understanding and concern making his green eyes bright. 

“I shouldn’t open it right?” Veronica asks. “I should just jam it away in a box in the back of my closet never to see the light of day, right?” Her voice may have started to go an octave higher than it normally is, but now that she has started she just can’t seem to stop. “There is nothing she can say in that letter that can be any good. I mean it’s been years, years and not a single word from her. What would she want now? To tell me how much she hates me? To tell me she wishes I was never born?” During her rant she had gotten up to pace, now as she breathes deeply, she stares at Jughead hoping he could give her the answers that she needs.

“Veronica,” Jughead gets up and grabs her hand “I don’t know what you should do, I don’t have the answer. I wish I did, god, I wish I did but I don’t. All I know that if you wanted me to take that letter and bury it in a ditch somewhere I would. If you want to act like the letter never existed I would, but is that what you want Veronica?” Veronica shakes her head.

“No, that isn’t what I want.” The woman sighs and flops down heavily onto the couch. Extending her hand she motions for Jughead to hand her the envelope. He does this as he moves to sit next to her, wrapping his arm around her shoulders. Veronica shares a knowing look with Jughead before using a nail to pry open the letter. 

#####  <strike>_“_</strike>_<strike>Mija,</strike> __Veronica,_

_ I know that my writing to you is the last thing you need in your life, but  _ <strike> _ I need _ </strike> _ I’m selfish. I’ve written this letter so many times, each time crumpling it up and throwing it in the trash. I wanted you to live your life, unburdened by me trying to contact you. I wanted you to forget I existed and be happy, but like I said I’m selfish. _

_ I<strike> have. They tell me. I’m sorry. </strike> _ _ No matter how many times I write this letter the right words won’t seem to come to me, that’s because there are no right words. What can I say to you, I’m sorry won’t help. It can’t erase what your father and I have done, what we put you through. It won’t take away any of the pain or hurt we have caused you, it won’t rewind time. The therapist here says that thinking of the past won’t help, that only thinking and living for the future can be done.  _

_ I know I don’t have the right to make a request from you, I know I don’t have that privilege  _ _ <strike>anymore</strike> _ _ to ask that of you, but I am going to make it anyway. I  _ _ <strike>need</strike> _ _ want to see you. It’s probably the last thing you want to do, and I don’t blame you.  _ <strike> _ Some days I don’t want to see myself  _ </strike> _ You must be wondering why I am making this request, after waiting so many years.  _ <strike> _ This is hard _ </strike> _ The only thing I can do is just write it, so here it goes. _

_ I’m dying. The doctors here found cancer in my pancreas, at first they were hopeful, but it seems that it quickly spread to my other organs. They say there is not much they can do for me besides making me comfortable,  _ _ s<strike>omething I haven’t had in a long time</strike> _ _ <strike>.</strike> The doctor, Dr. Willis, says that I don’t have much time left, maybe a month or two. _

_ So that is why I am allowing myself to be selfish, why I decided to contact you. My last,  _ _ <strike>dying</strike> _ _ wish is to see you one last time. I know you must hate me and if you don’t come, don’t respond at all I won’t blame you.  _

<strike> _ Love. _ </strike> _ I Love you so much, _

_ Your mother _ _ Hermione.”  _

“She’s dying,” Veronica croaks out once she’s done. “She’s dying and she wants to see me, she says it’s her last wish.” The raven-haired beauty turns to Jughead. The arm wrapped around her shoulders pulls her closer, and Veronica moves willingly. “I think I want to see her Jughead. I think... I think I need to see her.” The man places a kiss on the top of her head. 

“Then we will.”

**Author's Note:**

> To those who are wondering where my update for Catching Feelings are, well I am starting to write for it again but it will take time just be patient with me. For those who do not know what I'm talking about or have not read Catching Feelings, you should check it out!


End file.
